


A Tangle You Can't Undo

by thosewhitejeans



Category: Arctic Monkeys, Last Shadow Puppets
Genre: Cute, M/M, based on that interview lol, just fluff, nothing happens, vague hints at angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-10-30 01:17:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10866027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thosewhitejeans/pseuds/thosewhitejeans
Summary: Based upon that interview in which Alex said he used to hear Miles playing "Nothing Ever lasts Forever" by Echo and the Bunnymen while he was in the shower. Nothing happens :)





	A Tangle You Can't Undo

A/N: I actually wrote this so long ago! But I've nothing to offer at all, so I thought I'd tweak this a bit and put it up! Here's a link for the interview as well: https://www.sidewalkhustle.com/15-minutes-with-the-last-shadow-puppets/ Hope you all enjoy! :) 

A lazy smile finds its way to Alex's lips and he pushes his hair back to get an un-obscured view. It's dripping wet from his shower and getting long but there's no reason to cut it, in fact he's quite fond of it. Miles likes it too, mumbled something a few nights ago about enjoying how he can push his fingers into it and get a proper grip. 

Miles has such a way with things. Describing things, and doing things. He's got his back to Alex and is probably - hopefully - completely unaware that he's being watched but somehow he's still giving a show. He's so comfortable and at ease, from the way his legs are crossed beneath him, to the way his back is slightly bent, shoulders curved in so he can bend over the guitar. His shirt falls loosely from his shoulders where it's taut as he hunches slightly. 

Alex could hear him playing from the shower, Echo and the Bunnymen, loud and brash and undoubtedly more for his benefit than for Miles' own because when Miles plays it properly it's soft, but passionate. His voice goes gentle and soars on certain notes like he's straining for something. He closes his eyes as if the lyrics are beyond simply relevant. It used to worry Alex, worry him how the song echoed with melancholy and how Miles' voice added an edge of realism that had him questioning. He never did ask but he still wonders from time to time, when Miles begins playing it again, if there's something more there, something that runs deep. Maybe he really should ask? Later perhaps, he's hardly about to tarnish this beautiful moment with anything solemn.

Now that the shower's off though and Miles thinks Alex is still in the bathroom, he's gone quiet, plays a more fiddly tune but with the ease and skill that he has always managed to exude with guitar. Alex can see his long fingers shift nimbly in forming effortless barre chords from fret to fret. He doesn't actually recognise the tune but he's happy to wait it out, listen to it the whole way through, even if he's dripping water onto the floor, he certainly wouldn't want to disturb. Instead he just leans against the wall contentedly and listens. 

Miles continues singing and it's so soft and gentle, something Alex is still sort of surprised to hear every time he does. The quiet rasp that accompanies the words is undeniably lovely, creeps under the skin at the back of Alex's neck and half makes him shiver. He'll keep that to himself of course. Something about the moment, the air of the room, the realisation that Miles thinks he's alone and is deliberately playing quietly as though he's sure Alex won't hear from the bathroom makes Alex immediately feel like an intruder, but he can't leave. He's far too captivated. He nervously rubs his arm with the opposite hand and then pushes that same hand through rapidly drying hair, wondering if he should maybe make his presence known. 

He bites his lip and settles back against the wall, deciding against announcing himself and instead letting that smile creep back in again as he slowly takes in more details about the scene. There's a forgotten cocktail of some sort, probably gin and tonic since it's Miles' and it's sat on the coffee table, condensation pooling on the table around the sweating glass. 

Then Alex's gaze drifts to Miles himself, he's wearing sunglasses despite how the sun barely hits Alex's living room at this time of day. There's just the one rectangle splice of hot, orange sunset stretching out across the far corner opposite the window, perhaps earlier it had been farther over, getting in Miles' eyes but apparently he hasn't bothered to take the glasses off. His bracelets and his watch respond to each movement of his hand and every jerk along the neck of the guitar forces a gentle clatter of metal on metal. Miles turns his head to the side, just a little as though to study his fingering, like maybe he's unsure. Alex knows probably better than Miles does that he's not actually unsure at all but the way he double checks is endearing. Plus there's the extra bonus that now Alex can catch for a moment a glimpse of his profile. Miles' short hair seamlessly gives way to sideburns and then the stubble of his beard that Alex loves so much. The sunglasses are slipping down his nose and he takes a tiny break in his gentle strumming to push them up, half whispering lyrics as the guitar eases up and then continuing only a little louder as he had been. Still really much too quiet to decipher, but just loud enough for Alex to discern a tune at least.

Alex can almost imagine the frown Miles is probably wearing, the one that says he's concentrating hard and that he's lost inside his thoughts. 

Miles' mind is something of a maze Alex is sure, all corners and angles, full of wondrous ideas just waiting to be let out. He certainly talks enough, is often described as "garrulous" or less eloquently as "chatty". Yet with Miles somehow there's always something left unsaid, something waiting to be teased out of him, a knot to be undone somewhere and when it's finally loosened you notice another one appear. He's a constant riddle and Alex is ever so fond of trying to solve him, of getting closer but never unravelling entirely.

"Unbelievable," Alex mumbles after the echo of what's apparently the last chord fades out entirely leaving the room crackling with everything unspoken. His voice, though soft, incredibly soft actually, almost a mere breath, seems to make Miles jump. Miles does grin when he whips round though.

"Jesus, how long've you been there?" His voice is muted to match the scene but with the break of his smile any kind of setting is dispersed, falling away to reveal only homely comfort. The darkening room no longer seems spot lit by the sunset but rather warmed by the remaining rays.

Miles doesn't sound particularly annoyed and so Alex cocks a hip and smirks, crossing his arms over his chest as he speaks a little louder that before. 

"Caught the end of yer usual serenade..." Alex lets his smirk fall into a genuine smile, voice dropping in volume as well, tone rounded and soft, "...and then the rest." 

Maybe Miles blushes, he's certainly gone unusually quiet, but it's hard to tell for certain because he stands up and turns away. Alex for once isn't sure about how Miles is feeling, isn't sure whether reassurance is something that the man needs but he likes to utter blandishments anyway, so out they come, falling much too short of what Alex wants to convey.

"Y'sound great, Miles, really." 

It is, however, all he needs with Miles; nothing fancy, no gushing words or extensive compliments, just that. Not that Miles doesn't enjoy extensive compliments and gushing words in other settings but for now the simplicity is weighted enough with truth. Miles definitely blushes then, not too much really but does redden slightly. He looks away again but Alex is sure this time because he's snorting lightly, propping his guitar against the arm of the settee and smirking as he takes his sunglasses off, shamelessly raking his gaze over Alex's body. The way he avoids responding to Alex's words confirms his ever so slight embarrassment.

"Put a top on, slut," Miles utters fondly instead of a real reply and Alex already knows that this moment and its sidereal depth is one of those things he'll have to delve into with Miles, thoughts he'll still be combing through slowly over time. 

He's already looking forward to it. 

Miles grabs his cocktail, heads out to the patio no doubt to soak up the last rays of the day and there's a delicacy in his movements that suggests the moment from earlier hadn't quite dissipated as Alex first thought. He smiles at Miles' retreating figure, decidedly wont to join him as he shakes out his hair and opts for forgoing a t-shirt just for the thrill of a small act of rebellion as he too steps outside.

It was the right decision because Miles is waiting for him, sunglasses back on and shirt off as he takes a sip of his drink before holding the glass out in Alex's direction. The air is still hot from the late afternoon sun and where the orange light hits it casts lengthy shadows. Alex takes the drink from the glass and half smiles because he was right, the cocktail is indeed a gin and tonic, crisp and ice cold and garnished with cucumber, something favoured by Miles when it's casual evening cocktails as opposed to the bitter twist of lime he usually opts for of a night out.

"Sit with me?" Miles drawls, voice low to echo the rapid descent of evening. 

Alex had insisted upon getting a hammock when he'd moved in, infatuated as he was with the idea of lying suspended. As it happened the hammock proved to be far less comfortable than he could've hoped. That said, if Miles wanted for him to come join him in hammock then he wasn't about to turn him down. Less so when the hammock promised that they'd be pressed hard against one another, unable to move, when it promised absolute stillness as a necessity for fear of tipping themselves to the ground, when it promised Miles' arm around him and his around Miles, limbs entangled lazily due to lack of space. Besides all that, Miles looked most appealing with his bare chest and sleepy features, arms half outstretched as he still tried to balance himself properly. He's smiling too, all soft and sweet and so Alex bites his lip and returns the smile and crawls in beside him. There's a moment or two of tension while the balance is knocked off and while they both readjust to get comfortable but once they've settled Alex exhales and closes his eyes. The two of them lie mostly prone, gazes set on the dimming sky and shoulders almost painfully close but after half a second Miles chooses to lean into Alex. He twists his figure so that he can press his head to Alex's shoulder and sling an arm over his waist, knee draped across him too. 

"Stay a bit, this is nice." Is all Miles offers and Alex's only response is a huff of a laugh as his fingers find their way to Miles' hair. The lad's eyes fall closed and Alex tries not to stare, focusses on the abandoned G&T on the patio table and watches condensation race down the side of the glass and gather in a pool that soaks the wooden surface and turns it a darker shade. Miles' breathing is paced, just little huffs against his neck, even but not uncontrolled as if he were sleeping. Alex forces his head down, though it's uncomfortable, just long enough for his lips to graze Miles' temple and for a simple little smile to blossom in response. Before long he's staring again, eyes hopelessly dragged back as so often they are. 

Miles is the one who alerts him to the fact he's humming, honestly it must've been simply that the song got stuck in his head. It's just the chorus and it's barely audible but Miles can hear it, pressed as he is to Alex's chest. His hand comes down ungracefully on Alex ribs and Alex startles, clears his throat with a cautious, "what? What sorreh...?" 

"Not that song Al, just... no."

Alex simply exhales as his grip tightens delicately. As some other tune automatically rises from his throat softly he finds himself smiling, only at the thought of already beginning to get untie one of Miles' knots. Maybe it'll remain firmly ravelled for years but he's got his fingers on it. For now Miles is sleepy and at ease so he's hardly about to start now, just the knowledge that it's there is enough. 

The younger man cuddles into his side as the last rays of sun take with them the warmth and Alex, although becoming chillier can't even bring himself to move. Another smile, stretch of his neck and lips against temple and Miles hums a sigh of content.

"Love ya," is all Alex hears, syllables mostly lost to the breezes but meaning itself sinking into his chest where the lips that utter them are still pressed.


End file.
